


Of Thorns and Trials

by Arithanas



Category: Addams Family (TV 1964)
Genre: Canonical Kookiness, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Post-Wedding, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: All the relationships need some time to find their groove. Gomez and Morticia's was not an exception.





	Of Thorns and Trials

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prix/gifts).

Morticia snapped that pesky bud from her freshly sprouted thorns and wondered, for the twelfth time that morning, when science would be advanced enough to get rid of those horrid excretions once and for all. 

With a smile, she gathered those lovely, sharp thorns and caressed the brand new widow’s weeds she had sewn herself when they set a date to exchange their dark vows. Gomez had never seen her in that form-fitting hobble dress. The faint image of herself on the dirty glass panes made a secret smile appear on her gaunt face. 

Morticia Addams was not too different from Miss Frump, but she had found a new power that belonged only to her and the sweet grief of widowhood ahead. She picked up her thorns and contemplated the possibility of a life without Gomez. The sorrow was almost unbearable, excruciating, harrowing even… Maybe, just maybe, she could extract another proof of love from Gomez; he seemed to harbor an infinite supply of those just for her. She had peered into the dark cauldron of his skull enough to know his deeply romantic side would cherish the idea of a joint suicide. That way, neither of them would have to endure their better half’s absence.

She made her way to the library with her head full of such lovely fantasies born from a loving heart. The dark library was usually Gomez’s haunting, and Morticia wanted to surprise him with a wreath of thorns over his window; after all, little details keep the marriage alive.

The library greeted her with the delightful aroma of reams of paper decaying inside of their leather-bound cases. The whole house was filled with the natural aroma that the passage of time bestows on things. One has to leave the familial mausoleum to find one’s own grave—that was a law of life—but that smell made the sting of nostalgia for her own home exquisite.

She sat on her chair and started twisting the twigs with the learned speed of years of practice.

“Tish…”

The voice almost made the colors run to her face. Next to her, on his favorite chair, Gomez Addams sat despondently. A half-burnt cigar hung from the corner of his mouth. His always pristine pinstripe suit was loose and wrinkled. His bloodshot eyes looked at her from the bottom of a miserable pit.

“Gomez!” Morticia put her thorns aside and got up. “I thought you were in court today!”

“I was...” 

He smiled, and the width of that smile felt like an insurmountable chasm. Gomez extended his hand and Morticia took it. It was clammy and cold. Gomez guided her onto his lap and Morticia perched on his legs, balancing there like a spider on the silky thread of its web.

“How was the trial?” Morticia asked, sitting regally with her back straight as a tombstone. “You told me you were expecting some witnesses today.”

“They came, my delectable bride.” Gomez sighed and deposited a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “By Jove, they came! In hordes! Telling the most awful tall tales ever concocted by the human mind!” 

Morticia rested her weight on Gomez’s shoulder. She didn’t really understand that hobby of her husband—_lex talionis _always made more sense than trial by jury—but if it brought some gloom to his life, she was willing to tolerate it.

“So, what’s the problem?” Morticia let her finger roam the lovely line of his jaw. “You are not your usual, miserable self…”

“I think they are going to save him!” Gomez bemoaned the death sentence those witnesses had snatched from him.

“_Aïe, ma souillure!_” Morticia said and tossed her arms around Gomez’s neck.

Gomez wrapped his arm around her girth and took the cigar out of his mouth. 

“The worst tortures and humiliations I can endure,” Gomez said and Morticia gazed deeply into his eyes. “Pain and vexation and even suffer an innocent to live if I can return home to your lovely arms, Tish.”

“_Ah, mon sauvage!_” Morticia exclaimed and she broke their embrace to frame his face with her hands. Such a tormented visage was made to haunt her nightmares.

“Tish! That's French!”

Morticia smiled and Gomez rushed to kiss her on the lips with the hunger of a demon who just sprang from hell. Morticia’s unhappiness was so utterly complete that thorns and trials evaporated from her mind. He was hers and she was his. Their love was meant to swell like a typhoon on the open sea.

That day, their passion became part of the old library’s fragrance, Morticia’s widow’s weeds were disrespected, and the wreath was never fully woven. Nonetheless, from that day on, the old place at 0001 Cemetery Lane felt like a proper mausoleum and every room became the right undercroft for their shared devotion.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was improved by MoM via Discord server.


End file.
